Saturday, May 13, 2006

I try to make my bed at least once a week, whether it needs it or not. My mom sent me an article about the benefits of not making your bed: Bed-bugs, dust mites, cooties etc. die when left exposed to sunlight and multiply faster when they are tucked-in to a made bed. She knew I would appreciate this highly evolved perspective on the dangers of bed-making This did not change my habits, it reinforced my laziness, or you could say it 'supported my good intuitions.' Maria loves it when we make the bed, or at least all the upheaval and blanket piles that preceed bed making. She amassed all the pillows and made a nest of the blankets and sheets. It looks like pure coziness. Alex is the one who most often stands on the other side of the bed and helps me smooth the sheets, stack the pillows and spread the quilt. I don't ask for the help, but it's one of the nicest and most supportive experiences to have him there working with me. I love when he's around to help me, and we exchange happy words, make a few plans. I don't want the dust mites to thrive, but when I consider the simple pleasures that come on bed making day, I think I should consider doing it more often. Maybe.

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

I was lost in a link to link to link explore of the internet. Maria was sleeping in my arms, which is my justification for sitting on my asset for an hour and forty-five minutes. There are a lot of blogs out there. "A lot" being some huge, incomprehensible number. Interesting: When you find an artsy blog and then visit their links, you are very likely to find many other 'artsy' blogs. Most of them are kept by pretty women about thirty years old, educated, just starting families or so fabulously hip their friends and dog/cat/new car serve as a family. Many of them wear dark rimmed glasses, take amazing photos, and have creative names/ideas/lives/personalities etc... Lasting impression on me?: There are many talented, expressive people blogging and making art. Wow. Strangely though, there are so many voices, views, flavors and styles that very little seems particularly unique... even though all of them are original and unique. It's as though: "A point in every direction is like no point at all."

I tried to stop blogging because I felt pointless. That didn't last. I can still feel pointless, but there remains an irresistable compulsion to say something. Print something. Capture feelings, thoughts, self and other. Hmmmm. So much to ponder.

I was visiting the images posted on Small Farms, thinking about Texas Ranch House, and enjoying the new CD, "The Round-Up," I ordered, and so of course I got to feeling my inner cowgirl stir. My inner cowgirl can ride a bit, but she doesn't rope or brand. My inner cowgirl longs to round-up a herd of fat, sassy hens and lead them to green pastures. I miss my chicas. I tried guided meditation and it was Gracie who came to lead me to serenity and inner peace. I miss sitting on the lawn with her; she would fall asleep like a baby in my arms.
My inner cowgirl wants a compost pile and seed catalogs and empty half barrels that still smell of whiskey or Merlot. I want to fill the barrels with beets and carrots, zinnias, cilantro, oregano and sage. Wearing my boots and hat, a pretty blouse and a flowered skirt, I want to gather eggs and flowers and veggies and children, drop a cloth on the ground and have a shaded picnic.
It's wonderful to watch things grow. From blossom to fruit, from chicks to hens, from drowsy babes to restless youth, I want to watch and record, embrace and rejoice. I want to nurture the ground that nurtures our soles. I like that thought: happy soles make happy souls. I find a true connection with the garden, the warmth of the sun, the coolness of water, the richness of soil and the hands and feet that work them; it gives deep satisfaction and comfort.
Here, at the Tree House, the apricot tree is full of slowly ripening fruit. The plum tree has lost all but a few fading blossoms and is beginning to show hard, green fruit. The apple tree is full of fragrant, snowy flowers, promising many crisp, late summer apples. We may be here long enough to pick apricots, but I think we'll be gone before apples and plums ripen and fall.

Max would like to share some pictures he took of the fort he constructed.

Mom: How many entrances did the fort have?

Max: One. And it had an entrance and an exit.

Max: It's a too bad I had to take the fort down, especially the slide, 'cause I think Thunder really enjoyed the slide. Should I say it had a "Thunder door" or "a kitten door?" 'Cause it had a door which could only fit kittens.

Mom: What was your favorite part about your fort?

Max: The slide. I made it by taking a big yellow toy moon, flipping it over and making half of it holding up the fort and the other half being the slide. Let's talk about the lookout tower...

Mom: Which part was the lookout tower?

Max: I put a pillow on the chair to make it more comforatble and to disguise the chair, and I put a blanket on the pilow to be the roof and spread out on the other part of the fort, and it made a lookout tower.

Mom: Do you want to say anything else?

Max: Not that I know of. Actually, I do want ot say something else: It had lots of holes and I kind of want to make a better one.

Monday, May 08, 2006

Henceforth the pretty house with gossamer drapes, oak tree and country porch will be known as "The Poo-poo house that we didn't really like anyway." Max wanted to tell his brothers that the master bath had a built-in TV that could be watched from the bathtub: "We could have watched Finding Nemo in the bath!" But William begged him to stop, saying "We don't want to hear about the nice house. From now on it's the poo-poo house." I want to tell you more too, because it had rooms for all and clever corners and niches, and a finished attic where children could let their imaginations loose. It had a welcoming entry and an ample kitchen with... poo-poo. It was poo-poo.

We had a little visitor on Saturday: Bella-Bella!
She looks like a beautiful, little, blue eyed baby doll.
Holly, Rich, Nicholas and Isabella, along with friend Jack, came by after a day at Legoland. Fortunately, our house makes an ideal rest stop between the park and their home, because Bella-Bella needed fuel and hugs. Holly and I 'exchanged' babies; she got to meet and play with Benjamin Franklin Thunder Cat and I got some aunty time with Isabella. Maria was happy to just hold on to her daddy. Now that Geoff is home one day a week she makes the most of it. It won't be so very long before Maria and Isabella are playing together.

What else... Geoff met Cyrus for Sunday morning coffee. They're working in the same company again, which is good. There is comfort, and continuity in their paths crossing. I don't think corporations have the same 'family' feel they supposedly had a generation ago, but when Geoff can be with people like John, Mark, Cyrus... it's reassuring.

What else... I don't remember: Did I mention Bill and Alison and the baby? It bears repeating. Their baby is coming in September and their first baby will be a boy baby! My mom is on her way to visit them now and rumor has it her car trunk is laden with blue and green outfits and other goodies. I sent a blue puppy that plays music, which is evidently irritating... (what?! Maria likes her music bunny.) Being a far away aunt I will need some clues about their baby style and preferences.

Also...

Cristina and Spencer will be welcoming a healthy baby boy in October.
Tennessee cousin Kristin is graduating from high school! Awesome.
Betsy and Gabe are getting married in June. Congratulations.
Anne and I got to visit a bit on Sunday, and it was nice to have our relaxed chat.

And…

We found a beautiful house for rent. It’s big and lovely. It’s unique and special. Am I superstitious? I really, really want to live in this house, and I want to ask everyone to pray and meditate and send positive vibes for us to get this house, but I think that if I apply too much hope to something it will backfire. There were many people seeing the house and leaving applications, so I need to be realistic. Pets and kids probably don’t make us the favored candidates. Max came with us, and he was very good, polite and enthusiastic. We sat together on the fireplace hearth and in soft voices we talked about the yard, which needs work, and the many bedrooms and the fun bathroom. He said, “This is the second best house I’ve ever seen. Of course you know our house with the chickens and the play-set was the best, but this a really good one.” More people streamed in to see the rental and Max asked me why. When I explained he whispered apologetically, “I hate them for wanting this house too.”

Have you ever seen a toilet that works with a pump? Ours needs replacing, again.

About

You are visiting Chicken Blog~

Deep thoughts and other musings, from a woman who writes about the man she loves, their 3 sons and 1 daughter, Chango the cat, and Mister Washburn Foo Cat, Tasha Goat and Ada Goat, our dear Chicas, sewing, gardening & cooking, making, art, science, playing...And our lives in a home with a view.

*Blogged Since May 24, 2002*

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It was snowing in Oregon. There's snow atop Mauna Loa! And Massachusetts, too. Maybe in Wisconsin? It's got me thinking of all the wonderful traveling we enjoyed this year... me and Maria, especially. We are about as lucky as can be. But... wouldn't it be fabulous to visit any of our favorite places while it's snowing? Even if such a thing is a bit far fetched, I am enjoying the thought, and thinking of loved ones in their winter-wonderlands. Send some our way, or we'll come yours!

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